


Harbinger

by princesskay



Series: The Pirate and the Mermaid Saga [4]
Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Fantasy, Fatherhood, M/M, Mpreg, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1466248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reunited with Billa, Captain Tom Trumper is determined to keep his pregnant lover this time . . . But angry, rival pirates and the lingering threat of Jorg's mermaid army are determined to keep Tom and Billa from being happy just a little bit longer . . .</p><p>This is a direct sequel to The Deadly Lagoon</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who doesn't know, "harbinger" means a person that goes ahead to herald the coming of something, or something that foreshadows a future event. An omen, or a sign. In this case, Billa bringing about a change in the mermaid's laws towards humans. . .But what I found more interesting when I researched various meanings of the word, was the original definition. In old English, a "harbinger" was someone that went before a royal entourage to secure safe lodgings and accommodations. I found this to be kind of ironic and sweet, because Tom and Billa are bound to find somewhere safe and secure, now that they are parents:))) I think it will be a relief for us all when they finally do!

Tom Trumper hadn't always been a pirate. In fact, as a child, he rather favored music and books over the wooden swords and imaginary battles the other boys in the school yard loved so well. The books he poured over in every spare moment of his childhood were about adventure, treasure, places beyond his wildest dreams. Very early on, he decided that he wanted to call the sea home, that he wanted to make his fortune as a merchant.

The thing he recalled most about leaving home to be a merchant was not the giddy excitement in his chest, or the sense of freedom that being on his own gave him. His clearest memory was that of his mother, arms stretched out as her son slowly drifted away from the shore, carried by the merchant ship he had scraped his money together to purchase She was crying, thick, wet rivers down her cheeks, sobbing in anguish that the young man she had raised, and loved, the young man that had become the head of the household after her husband died, was leaving her for the sea. He might never return, he may even be killed.

At the time, Tom had tired to dismiss the pang of regret in his chest upon leaving his poor, widowed mother alone. It was his life, he had decided, and he was ready to live it the way he saw fit; as a merchant, out on the seas, not as a layman in his tiny, German city where income came from hard, back-breaking labor that paid in pennies. He was twenty-one years old, after all; he had to leave home at some point.

He never truly understood his mother's sorrow until he came upon his own form of loss, his own private hell, seven years later. As he stumbled along the empty shoreline, searching out to his beloved sea for answers, it struck him with stunning, painful clarity. He had never understood his mother, because he had never been a parent. Not until now. . .Now, the only two things that mattered to him were gone. In under a year, his priorities had been entirely rearranged, his life turned upside down by the most gorgeous and flawless creature he had ever laid eyes on. His Billa, his precious, beautiful mermaid that had first seduced him, then stolen his heart, was the only thing Tom cared about anymore. Not his ship, or his men, or piracy. . .But a boy, a stunning mermaid boy – and the life they had created together, that grew in that boy's stomach.

And they were gone.

In one night, the two people that Tom cared that most about had been ripped away from him. Billa's father, Jorg, the mermaid king of these waters, had been hunting them relentlessly for over a month, attempting to bring Billa back home. But, Jorg considered Billa and Tom's union to be blasphemy, their child an abomination. They both knew what would happen if Billa returned with his father.

Jorg had at last agreed on a rendezvous point, at the Black Water Lagoon, off the coast of a little known West Indies island. Tom had gone to the meeting expecting negotiation, but Jorg was determined to take Billa back. A battle between the pirates and the mermaids ensued, leaving Tom and Billa separated.

It had been a week since that rendezvous at the Deadly Lagoon. A week since Tom had lost Billa. A week since he had sworn to kill Jorg, or anything that got in his way of finding Billa.

Tom's ship, the _Virtuosa,_ had returned to the Lagoon as Tom, and Georg, his second in command, had agreed. But all the searching in the world couldn't recover one scrap of evidence as to Billa's location. Distraught and enraged, Tom returned to the ship and ordered it to the largest port island. They weighed anchor and Tom stormed off the ship, in great need of fresh air and open spaces to think. He couldn't bear to look at the faces of his crew any longer, because all he saw was a mixture of compassion, disbelief, and contempt. The Captain Trumper they knew didn't stop for anyone; he didn't let women, booze, other captains, wounds, internal conflicts in the crew, or even _treasure_ hold him back. He was a pirate, and a damn good one. They must all think he had lost his goddamn mind. 

Tom wasn't even sure he knew himself anymore. A year ago, he hadn't even considered children or fatherhood. He liked sex well enough, but he didn't keep a constant woman. He cared for his crew, a drink, his sword, and treasure. . . A year ago, he hadn't met Billa. Now, he would do anything to find the one person that had cared for him, and loved him more than anyone since he had left his mother's arms. 

The  _Virtuosa_ had been docked at the island for two days. Tom had given his men permission to disassemble and take a bit of a vacation on the island. Since it was bigger than most of the islands they docked at, Tom imagined they could entertain themselves for days, weeks even. He left them with the illusion that he was sniffing out some sort of lead on a new treasure hunt, or some other money making venture. In reality, he could often be found wandering the streets, scanning every face, asking mere strangers if they had seen Billa, trying to form some sort of a fucking plan. But he couldn't think of a plan, and he couldn't find Billa. The port was getting him absolutely nowhere, and each day found him sinking into a deeper despair. 

Today in particular, he stormed down the beach, purposefully kicking up sand and whispering curses at the sky. The ocean was before him, a still, peaceful blue that beckoned him like familiar arms. She was saying, “Come back to me,” but Tom couldn't go. Not until he found Billa. The sea had been his first love, but nothing could match the intensity with which he loved Billa, and their child.

The image of his mother stretching out her arms for him to return to her continued to flash through his mind. This sorrow, this gaping hole in his chest, must have been what she felt as she watched her son sail away into the horizon. The memory pushed the tears more fully to his eyes and he sank to the sand on his knees, swallowing back pathetic sobs. Tom Trumper didn't cry; he didn't whimper and beg and snivel, not for anyone. Now was the time to stand up and be strong, to take the initiative. He should be out there, searching the entire Caribbean Ocean for Billa.

Tom punched a fist into the sand and rose to his feet. He was angry now, breathing hard through his nostrils. He pointed a finger at the sky, addressing whatever power that could be gazing down on him.

“You may have taken my father; you may have taken my friend, and my life as a merchant, and you may have taken my captain. But you will not fucking take this from me!”

The blissful, blue sky gave him little answer but he only glared at it more furiously.

“I will find him.” he snarled, jabbing his finger at the listlessly floating clouds, “I will fucking find my Billa, and my child! I will find them and I will bring them home, and I will-”

“Help! Somebody help me!!!”

The agonized scream cut through Tom's livid ranting, causing his heart to shove into his throat. He spun around, turning his narrowed gaze back toward the rows of cottages and shops several yards away. He could hear a loud commotion coming from the village streets, a scuffle and banging, men cursing, and that weak, helpless cry.

Tom's ears strained harder as the cry came once more.

“Help me!!! Someone! Please, stop!”

“Shit. . .” The curse wavered off of Tom's lips.

Perhaps he was imagining things. Maybe he was finally losing his mind to the despair. He had to be crazy because that voice sounded exactly like Billa's.

Without thinking it through any further Tom took off running across the sand, ducking his head against the wind. Sprinting towards the village streets, he yanked his sword from the scabbard and scanned the cobblestones for the source of the screaming and shouting. He slowed for only a moment when his feet hit the stones. He looked in each direction and quickly found the disturbance. Down the street to his left, he could see a group of three men in the middle of the street, circling around a smaller figure at the center of the commotion. The person was dressed in white, loose-fitting pants and a shirt of the same color, both of which were now severely dirt stained from the dusty ground. The cowering figure had a full head of long, black hair that fell nearly to the waist and obscured the person's face. The three men were closing in, each carrying a weapon of some sort that they waved threateningly at the poor person in the middle.

Tom took only a moment to decide what course of action to take. He was angry, and God knew he needed someone to release his anger on, even if the person he was about to save wasn't Billa. 

Tom dashed down the street, sword held high over one shoulder at he closed in. One of the ruffians had his back turned to Tom's advance, and Tom brought his sword down hard on the backs of his legs, without the man ever seeing the strike coming. Tom's sword sliced cleaning through the material of the man's pants and into flesh and tendons. The man screamed in shock and pain and fell to the ground. He dropped his sword to clutch the backs of his legs, rocking back and forth in agony.

The other two men ditched their attempts on attacking the helpless person on the ground and turned their attention to Tom. They both came at him swinging, but Tom ducked under their blades and thrust his own forward, running one through the middle. Blood gushed from the man's stomach and he stumbled backward, then fell to his back on the ground. The third pirate was still fighting, slashing his blade at Tom. His eyes were dark and wild, enraged by Tom's interruption and the attack on his friends.

Tom pushed himself to his feet and darted backwards, extending his sword across the other man's. They rushed back and forth with counter attacks, swords clashing in the now relative silence of the street. Tom could see that a crowd had begun to gather, but he hardly cared if the constable were called. He wanted to kill this man, slash his throat and gut him like a pig. Not because the man had done anything personally against Tom, but because he was there, the perfect target for Tom's rage.

At last, their blades locked and Tom gave a swift twist to deprive the man of his weapon. The other man's sword clattered to the ground and Tom swung his elbow up into the man's face. His opponent staggered backwards, then fell to the ground, his nose gushing blood. Tom rushed forward, planting his foot on the man's gut and pressing his sword under the man's chin.

“Please, I surrender.” The man held up his hands, eyes wide and fearful.

“Go rot in hell.” Tom hissed.

With a flick of his wrist, he cleanly slit the man's throat and watched a thick, red blood welled across his neck and began to spill out onto the ground. There was a gasp from an onlooker, but most of the crowd had already began to disassemble.

Tom kicked the man's motionless body away and firmly sheathed his sword. He looked up to see the figure he had been mindlessly defending lying on the ground, circled into the fetal position. A mane of raven black hair was askew about the cowered head and slight shoulders shivered with tears. The body was slim and feminine, and she appeared to be largely pregnant.

Tom sighed and walked toward her. Kneeling down, he placed a gentle hand on one quivering shoulder. The figure lurched away with a terrified cry, hands and knees scrambling to escape.

“Hey, wait. I'm not going to hurt you!”

The figure stilled, halfway to hands and knees. The head slowly turned and Tom found himself gazing into large, wet, brown eyes, nearly concealed by the long, disheveled black hair. Tom felt his entire world come to a halt, his heart losing a couple of beats before taking off at a wild rhythm.

“Tom?”

“Oh my God. . .” Tom whispered, reaching out a quivering hand, “Billa?”

“Tom, it's you!” Billa cried, thrusting himself into Tom's arms and wrapping his arms tightly around Tom's neck, “Oh my God, I thought I'd never find you!”

“Me either.” Tom replied, dragging Billa tightly into his arms, “I've been looking everywhere for you. Where were you? What happened?. . .Oh My God. . .how are you. .?”

They broke their embrace as Tom looked down at Billa's entirely human legs. His gleaming, silvery-green tail was gone, replaced by long, shapely legs and delicate, white feet. The way Tom had first met him, but not the way he was accustomed to seeing his Billa.

“I know. . .human.” Billa whispered, looking up at Tom with round eyes, “I'm not exactly sure how it happened either. . .”

“Are you okay?” Tom worried, placing one hand on Billa's cheek and the other on his round stomach, “Are you hurt?”

Billa shook his head, “I'm okay.”

“What did those sons of bitches want?” Tom demanded, casting a venomous glare at the lifeless bodies surrounding them.

Billa's eyes filled with fresh tears, “I don't know. . .They were harassing me, and then they wanted me to go with them. . .I said no, I called for help, but no one came until. . .” He collapsed into Tom's arms again, wrapping his arms fiercely about Tom's middle, “I can't believe it's you.”

“Come on.” Tom slid his arms around Billa's waist and underneath his legs, “Let's get you somewhere safe.”

Cradling Billa firmly to his chest, Tom ignored the stares of the locals and made his way toward the inn he was staying at. This time, he vowed, he wouldn't let go of Billa; he wouldn't lose him so easily.

 

~

 

“Seems kind of familiar.” Billa murmured, gazing up at Tom with large, adoring eyes from the clean, warm sheets of Tom's bed.

Tom brought him the cup of tea he had been preparing and pressed it into Billa's cold hands.

“This time, you don't have to cast a spell on me.” Tom replied affectionately.

He couldn't keep his hands off of Billa's body, whether it was to pet his hair, rub his back, or just give him a reassuring squeeze on the knee. His head was spinning with the sudden turn of events; under an hour ago, he was raving at the sky that he would find his precious Billa, and now, he had Billa in his hotel bed once more. He knew by now that it was real, that he wasn't dreaming, but it still seemed too wonderful to be true.

Billa smiled as Tom laid out next to him and began to move his hand in slow, soothing circles over Billa's swollen stomach.

“Has it grown since we last saw each other?” Tom wondered, softly.

Billa tilted his head against Tom's shoulder and breathed in the scent of Tom's skin, “The time is getting close.”

“Close? How close?” Tom asked, lifting his head, “Humans carry their babies for nine months . . .”

“Mermaids for not quite as long.” Billa finished, “Our baby should be here soon, Tom.”

“How will you. . .I mean, now that you're. . ..?” Tom worried.

“I can change.” Billa said, sounding slightly astounded.

“What do you mean?”

“I can change at will.” Billa replied, “If I want to swim again, I can; if I want to walk, I have legs. . . It's a blessing.”

“I don't understand. What happened on that island?” Tom insisted.

“I swam away.” Billa replied, “I swam as fast as I could to escape my father's men. I found myself in this little cave, and this woman came to me. She said she was going to give me a chance to change everything . . .I think she meant with my father.”

Tom frowned and sat up, “Wait a minute. Who was this woman?”

“My father always told me there were forces greater than him that ruled the waters.” Billa replied, softly, “Especially at the Lagoon. My people always saw these forces as dark and overbearing, but this woman was beautiful, and she was light and warmth. I felt safe.”

“You think she gave you legs so that you could make peace between humans and mermaids?” Tom concluded.

Billa nodded, “I think so.”

Tom bit his lip and anxiously stroked Billa's cheek, “It's a big job for my Billa.”

Billa blinked rapidly, “I'm not a fighter, Tom. Not like you. What if I can't do it?”

“I think you're stronger than you believe.” Tom replied, rubbing his thumb across Billa's lower lip, “You stood up to your father. You were willing to fight to be with me. I think that says a lot about whether you're a fighter or not.” 

Billa smiled, weakly, “Really?”

“Yes.” Tom smiled, and leaned down to press a firm kiss to Billa's lips, “And I'll be at your side the whole time. I'm not letting you go ever again.”

Billa reached over to set his tea on the nightstand, then turned his face up for another kiss. Their mouths pressed, hot and wet, saliva intertwining, tongues dancing. When they parted, breathless and needy, Billa's eyes were dark and heavy with lust, “I don't want you to let go, Tom. . .I want you to make love to me.”

Tom pressed closer, his fingers wrapping tightly around Billa's hip and drawing their bodies as close together as they could with Billa's stomach between them. He pressed a hot kiss to Billa's mouth, then dragged his lips down the taut jawline and the throbbing pulse of Billa's throat. Billa clung to him, nails digging into Tom's back as nibbled at Billa's tender skin.

“Yes, Tom. . .” He murmured, arching forward, “Make love to me like it's the last time. . .”

Tom pushed himself up onto his hands and knees above Billa's compliant body, and kissed Billa harder. He snatched up a section of Billa's pants and gave them a firm tug. The material quickly departed from Billa's body and he spread himself out in front of Tom, squirming eagerly. Tom leaned back, dragging his eyes up and down the length of Billa's perfect, porcelain body, memorizing each curve and plane, as if it truly would be the last time. He stroked a shivering hand down Billa's side, briefly cradling his pregnant stomach before moving down to spread his palms over Billa's thighs. Billa moaned, back arching as Tom stroked his thumb over the tender flesh right next to Billa's crotch. Billa's cock was quickly growing to full erection, flushing an enticing rosy color that throbbed with life and desire.

Tom groaned softly and drew one hand up the velvety soft skin of the shaft. He could feel the blood pulsing wildly just beneath the surface, growing harder by the second. He wrapped his fingers fully about Billa's cock and gave his hand a few lazy pulls. Billa mewled softly and cast a desperate look at Tom. His hips squirmed in quick, needy circles, begging Tom for more, always more.

Tom laid a hand briefly on Billa's cheek and murmured, “Shh, baby. I'm gonna take good care of you.”

Billa whimpered as Tom ducked his head to take the tender, swollen head in his mouth. Tom closed his eyes and let out a slow breath through as nostrils as he took Billa's cock deep into his mouth. The flesh was rock hard and leaking against his tongue, and Billa was grabbing at his dreadlocks, so eager. Tom sucked slowly, adding pressure each time he took Billa into his mouth until he had formed a tight seal around the throbbing flesh. Billa squirmed, moaning louder. His nails dug into Tom's scalp, eliciting a wave of pleasurable shivers down Tom's spine. Tom pressed closer, moving his mouth more quickly over Billa's cock. His head pumped up and down between Billa's spread thighs, drawing long, low groans from Billa's mouth and uncontrollable streams of pre-cum to dribble from his cock. He kept his lips pulled over his teeth, rubbing flesh against flesh and letting saliva pour down Billa's cock. His hand circled around the base, twisting and squeezing in slow pulses that caused Billa to pant and writhe.

“Tom. . .Oh Tom, yes. . .” Billa groaned, undulating hips softly against Tom's mouth.

Tom pulled back to the tip and sucked hard on the head, wringing out the pre-cum gathering beneath foreskin. Billa rose from the sheets, pulling on Tom's hair. His mouth was stretched open a silent cry as Tom kept his mouth firmly sealed around the tip, tongue swirling against the little opening that eagerly oozed arousal.

Billa gasped in breath as Tom finally pulled his lips back, releasing Billa's cock entirely. The hard, wet flesh slapped against the underside of his round tummy, resting red and thick against the white, flawless womb. Tom gazed at that beautiful sight for only a few moments before he dipped his head once more to taste Billa's full, tight testicles. Billa cried out sharply as Tom drew one into his mouth and began to suck softly. His hands stayed firmly on Billa's thighs, keeping them spread wide apart though they quivered and tensed, as if to close around Tom's head. Tom drew the soft orb in and out of his mouth several agonizing times before moving to the other. Billa writhed, pleasured cries confined to his tight, immobile throat. He was dying to cum, but he preferred the pleasure of Tom's mouth, absent for too long, against him. They had just been reunited, and he wanted this to last for as long as possible. 

He grabbed at Tom's hair and pushed him away. Tom's mouth released him and he leaned back frowning, “What's wrong?”

“Stop.” Billa panted, head lolling against the pillow, “I'm going to come.”

Tom smiled, softly, “That's what I want.”

“I know, but. . .” Billa reached up to touch Tom's cheek, starving for the most intimate of connections, “I want it to last.”

Tom's smile broadened. He leaned down and kissed Billa deep and loving, just his lips caressing Billa's. When he lifted his head, his eyes were serious, “You want me in you?”

Billa nodded, blushed softly, “Yes, Tom.”

“Turn on your side.” Tom motioned.

Billa gave Tom a quick kiss on the mouth before rolling onto his side. He arched his hips back, eagerly presenting himself to Tom. Tom stroked Billa long, dark hair over one shoulder and lowered his head to press gentle kisses against his back. He moved slowly down Billa's spine, kissing each ridge of bone until his mouth was riding over the curve of Billa's tailbone. Billa moaned and arched his hips farther back. He pulled his leg up against his stomach to reveal himself and moaned into pleasure when Tom's warm breath washed down the cleft of his ass. Tom's fingers squeezed Billa's butt cheek, spread him open as his mouth slid down to brush across the little hole. Billa whined and squeezed the corner of the pillow in his fist. His body was strung tight and ready to climax, almost too sensitive to endure Tom's slow, gentle caresses. But that was what he wanted; to endure each touch and kiss even if the ache were burning him up inside.

Tom's tongue flicked out, and the firm tip stroked back and forth across Billa's tight entrance. Billa jerked and moaned, turning his face against the pillow. He could hardly breath as Tom's tongue went in a slow, arousing circle around the pucker of flesh, not entering, just teasing.

“Tom. . .” Billa breathed, holding himself still as Tom licked him thoroughly.

Tom replied in a soft, appreciative groan. His fingers squeezed tighter around Billa's butt cheek, holding him open wide as he pressed his tongue up against the tight pucker. The tip pressed firmly, and Billa at last felt the velvety, hot texture of Tom's tongue slither inside him. Billa squealed into the pillow, hips writhing against Tom's face. He could feel Tom's tongue curling and probing inside him, exploring every inch of hot little interior before laying the devastatingly pleasurable touch against Billa's prostate. It rubbed there, back and forth across the tender bit of flesh, nearly driving Billa insane with the pleasure.

Billa gasped, fingers clawing at the bedsheets, “Oh Tom, please!”

Tom lifted his head, leaving Billa's hole bare and empty. He pressed a kiss against the round curve of Billa's butt cheek and murmured, “You're so tight.”

Billa moaned weakly, “Oh, Tom. . .”

Tom slid back up next to him, slipping a hand between Billa's legs. Billa cried out as Tom slipped a finger inside him. It squirmed about, testing the tightness of Billa's passage before pulling back and thrusting in again. Billa bit at his lower lip, restraining cries of pleasure as Tom's finger pumped in and out of him, steadily causing the flesh to relax and open to the intrusion.

“Ahh. . .ohh, Tom. . .” Billa sighed, pressing his ass back against Tom's hand, “Oh, yes. . .”

Tom pressed his mouth against Billa's shoulder, delivering a row of kisses along the smooth flesh before pausing at the join of his neck, “You're so tight, but you're gonna take me, baby.”

Billa moaned, shivers raking down his spine in response to Tom's huskily spoken words.

Tom's hand paused, but only to add another finger. Two plunged back into Billa's hole, quickly stretching him open, wider and wider until Billa could feel the space aching for more.

“Tom, please. . .” He moaned, arching his hips back against Tom.

“You want my cock?” Tom questioned, his breath hot against Billa's ear.

“Yes, Tom!” Billa cried.

Tom withdrew his fingers and guided his cock to Billa's open, wanting hole. He pressed his big, hard cock against the tender flesh, slowly pushing himself inside.

Billa moaned, his body jolting with the shock of Tom's huge member filling him.

“Yes, take it.” Tom groaned, grabbing Billa's hip to pull him down more firmly on his cock.

All the air evaporated from Billa's lungs as Tom's hips seated themselves against his ass, pushing his cock completely inside Billa. They stayed there for a moment, bodies locked together, each panting in breathless anticipation and insurmountable pleasure.

“Oh, Tom. . .” Billa whined when Tom's hips shifted, lodging himself a bit deeper.

Tom's fingers flexed around Billa's hip and he withdrew from the tight space, only to plunge back in, moments later. Billa gasped, hips ducking away from the massive, knifing intrusion. His vision was blurred with fresh colors of pleasure, and his mind was spinning like a maelstrom. It had only been a week since he last made love with Tom, but it had been perhaps the longest week of his life. He had really thought he lost Tom; he thought his world had changed forever. The sorrow suddenly being overtaken by this wonderful, breath-taking pleasure was almost more than his body could take.

Tom's fingers peeled away from Billa's hip and he reached down to lace his fingers through Billa's. His hips pulsed gently against Billa's ass, slowly working his cock in and out of the tight space and coaxing the muscles to relax and take him. Billa let out a slow breath and closed his eyes to concentrate on the feeling of Tom's cock joining them over and over again. He squeezed his fingers around Tom's and mumbled something affirmative as Tom began to rock his hips harder, joining them faster and deeper.

Tom's mouth let out a wavering breath against Billa's neck and he groaned softly into the flesh, “God. . .You feel so good. . .”

Billa opened his lips to reply, but all he could form was unintelligible moans. Tom's cock seared in and out of him so good, so perfect, he was rendered speechless, his mind numb to anything but the pleasure.

Tom shifted into a faster pace, dragging his cock in and out of Billa's soft, pleasure weak body, and driving for his prostate. Billa moaned, arching up against Tom as Tom's cock touched his pleasure spot for the first time.

“Oh, yes. . .” Billa managed to groan. He undulated his hips against Tom to repeat the same stroke against his spot, “Yes, there. . .”

Tom pushed himself up on one arm to gain more leverage and thrust his hips more firmly against Billa's ass. Billa held on tightly to Tom's hand, breathing hard into the pillow. Tom's cock drove into him, straight for his prostate, pressing Billa into the bed and making him writhe uncontrollably. His legs twitched and tingled and before he could stop himself he felt his toes disappear into fins. Tom hardly seemed to notice the spontaneous transformation; his cock kept plowing into Billa's ass, driving him into the mattress with steady, deep thrusts. Billa cried out, his tail flopping helplessly against the sheets. He knew he wouldn't last long without water, but he couldn't concentrate on shifting back to his human form with Tom fucking the life out of him.

Tom's weight bore down on him, broad chest crushing Billa's smooth, arching back as he bowed under the weight of pleasure. He tore his fingers out of Billa's grasp and reached down to grab Billa's cock.

“Come on.” He growled, his breath hot against Billa's ear, “Come for me, baby.”

Billa moaned loudly, feeling the pleasure swelling low in his stomach, aching with the need to come. His could feel it building inside him, thrumming all the way down his tail, to the tips of his fins. The slender extension smacked against the bedsheets, writhing and curling with the steady, unbearable vibrations of pleasure assaulting him. With Tom's fist pumping his cock, and Tom's dick driving at his prostate, Billa came hard. His body arched and writhed, consumed by pleasure he had thought he would never feel again. It tore through him like a storm, stripping his senses of anything but the pleasure and making his insides feel raw and tender, abused by the intensity of the orgasm. Cum sprayed in thick, eager streams from his dick, splattering his swollen stomach, bedsheets, and Tom's swiftly pumping fist. He came everywhere, his body exploding with pleasure he had hardly been containing since the beginning of the encounter. 

When at last his body went limp against the bedsheets, he felt Tom's climax rocking through his solid, muscular body, pushing his dark cock deeper into Billa's compliant ass. Hot, sticky fluid blossomed deep inside Billa's body and ran in excess down his thighs, making him feel marked, loved, possessed.

As Tom pulled out, Billa rolled over pressed himself to one of Tom's heaving sides. Tom wrapped and arm around him and deposited a firm, loving kiss on his forehead.

“I love you.” He murmured.

Billa turned his face up to gaze into Tom's eyes, adoring and idolizing, “I love you too.”

Tom's gaze flicked down Billa's body, “What happened to your legs?”

Billa blushed, and flicked his tail against the sheets, “I got. . .um, a little too excited I guess.”

A smile twitched at Tom's lips, “So you're telling me that if I fuck you good enough you grow a tail and fins?”

Billa smacked Tom's chest, “I don't quite have control of it yet. Your teasing doesn't help!”

Tom smiled and he rested his big, calloused hand over Billa's face, “Okay. Close your eyes and relax before I have to throw back into the water.”

Billa contained his smile and did as he was told. After a few failed tries, he felt his toes curling around the bedsheets once more, his knees quivering weakly. He hoped after having this gift for so long, he would become accustomed to having his legs, but most of the time, they felt like noodles, weak and wobbly at best.

“There now.” Tom murmured, running an appreciative hand down Billa's thigh, “They're gorgeous.”

“It is nice, not having to sit in a crate of water to be with you.” Billa replied, smiling sheepishly.

“Mmm I won't miss that.” Tom agreed. He cradled Billa's face in his hands and left a trail of kisses down his forehead and nose, “God, you scared the hell out of me. Don't ever do that again.”

Billa clung closer to Tom, “I thought I'd lost you too.”

“I won't let it happen again.” Tom vowed, solemnly.

“I just want to be with you.” Billa replied, snuggling his head under Tom's chin, “Is it selfish of me to say I just want us to be alone, together, like this? That I don't care about my father or going back to the sea? Or about your ship and crew. . .?”

Tom's hand slipped behind his head, cradling him closer, “No, it sounds perfect.”

They both jarred when there came a sudden pounding at Tom's door. Tom sat up, his eyes flaring with irritation and worry, “Who is it?”

“It's me.” Georg's voice filtered through the door, “Captain, you need to come quickly.”

“What is it?” Tom called back, swinging his legs over the bed and reaching for his clothes.

“There's a situation. Hurry!”

Billa watched as Tom quickly rose from the bed and struggled back into his clothes, shifting right back into the role of captain as easily as slipped his shirt over his head. With a heavy heart, Billa knew Tom wouldn't be leaving his beloved ship and crew for Billa quite yet. . .

 


	2. Chapter 2

Tom stormed out of the inn, shirt open in the front, a red bandana wrapped around his forehead to keep his dreads at bay, and his sword in hand. He had left the rest of his belt and sheath in the room, along with his vest, jacket, and hat. He wasn't especially pleased to be drawn out of his post-coital bliss with Billa to settle what was probably a street fight between one of his men and a crew member of an opposing ship. He would crush the conflict beneath his boot with the same passion he had recently delivered to Billa's ass.

“Captain, wait.” Georg's tone was apologetic as he hurried after Tom's long strides, “It's more serious than a simple scuffle.”

Tom paused in the lobby of the inn, breathing hard, “Then what the fuck is it? Spit it out, man.”

“This man, this other captain . . . He has young Tobias. He's threatening to slit the boy's throat if you don't face him in a duel.” Georg explained hurriedly, “I've never seen him in my life, Tom.”

Tom turned a sharp gaze at the double doors that led out of the inn. Just beyond was a fight he hadn't even known existed until now. God knew he had slighted more than one man in his lifetime as a pirate. This attack could be retaliation to any number of misdeeds Tom had committed in the past four years.

“Is Tobias injured?” Tom asked, at last.

First and foremost, he always considered the welfare of his crew, even if that particular mate had gotten himself in the situation.

“No, sir. Just scared shitless, I'd say.”

“Good.” Tom flexed his fingers around his sword, “Then this should be simple enough to deal with.”

Without giving Georg anymore time to explain, Tom strode across the lobby and shoved the doors of the inn out of his way. They swung wildly when struck, nearly slamming on Georg as he followed Tom out onto the front porch. Three or four steps led down to the uneven, cobblestones where a rather large crowd had assembled to see how the dual would play out. Ten feet in front of the steps, a burly man with a head full of black dreadlocks and a long, thick beard stood with Tobias in front of him. The man had a dagger at the boy's pale throat, the hilt of which was griped by a huge, bejeweled hand. The pirate captain's fingers were decorated in half a dozen rings that matched the heavy necklaces circling his thick neck. His clothes were dirty and worn, as if he had been wearing the same pair for months. His once red shirt was now a darker, rusty color, like that of dried blood, and his black pants were stained brown with dirt. His boots were knee-high, steel-toed, and sported two inch heels; impressive for a man of his size.

It took Tom only a few moments to size up the other captain, to decide what he really wanted, what his motivations were. He was here for revenge; Tom could see it in his eyes.

“Drop the sword, or I'll cut the lad's throat.” The captain challenged, his dark eyes gleaming, right next to Tobias's round, frightened ones.

“I don't respond to threats.” Tom replied, keeping his tone calm, even, “Especially when I don't know who they're coming from.”

“Oh, you know.” The man chuckled, “You killed three of my men today.”

Tom felt his hackles rise in reference to the three ruffians he had found attempting to despoil his dear Billa. The attack had been brutal, excessively so, but to Tom, it had seemed fitting for what the men planned to do to a pregnant, helpless stranger.

“Men, you say?” Tom replied, swaggering down the stairs, “They seemed more like animals to me. Is that how you train your men? To behave like savages?”

A tick started near the captain's left eye, “We are pirates, Captain Trumper. Not saints. Don't presume to be more righteous than us.”

“I presume nothing. I came upon them attempting to rape what belongs to me.” Tom replied, sharply, “A fact that has little to do with Tobias. So release him, and we'll talk like real men.”

“I am here for a duel. Fair and simple.” The other captain insisted, “Or an agreement that I may take three of your men to slaughter, just as you did mine.” 

Tom gazed at the man's serious expression for a few moments before throwing his head back and laughing. The man's eyes widened in shock and anger as Tom held a hand over his stomach and slowly contained his laughter.

As the last chuckle left his lips, Tom rearranged his face to solemnity and replied, “If you think I'm going to hand you three of my men to cut down, you are more of a raving lunatic than I first imagined.”

“I will kill this boy, make no mistake.” The other captain replied, “Your mockery is all I need to slice his pretty white throat.”

Tom advanced a step further, then held out his hands, “All right, then. A dual.”

The captain gave a grunt of affirmation and released Tobias. Tobias ran from the man's grasp and hurried past Tom to where Georg stood, whispering, “Thank you, Captain.”

Tom gave a nod and turned his eyes back to the other captain.

“Perhaps a name, sir. Before we begin?”

The man spat on the ground and circled closer to Tom, withdrawing his own sword. The handle was big and silver, boasting three skulls, the middle larger than the rest, just above the handle. Tom's own weapon was hardly as fancy, but it was always sharp, and had defended him well for four years. He didn't need a flashy weapon to prove himself as a captain or as a swordsman. That this other captain did gave Tom cause to break out in laughter once more.

“Names don't mean much here.” The other captain replied, “You didn't get my men's names before you killed them, now did you?”

“Typically I don't stop to ask questions when someone is attempting to pillage my possessions.” Tom replied, keeping a distance of at last five feet between them as the circled in the street, “Do you?”

The man brandished his sword and retorted, “Typically, I don't leave my possessions in a way that they could be pillaged in the first place.”

Tom decided to take the first strike. He was short-tempered after being ripped from the bed with Billa, and he had no patience for bantering. He simply wanted to put an end to the argument so that he could sooner return to Billa's side. He had already lost enough time with the bearer of his child.

Tom moved quickly on the balls of his feet and thrust his sword straight for the man's heart. The other man moved surprisingly fast for his weight, dodging Tom's strike and bringing his sword to bear along Tom's. Their swords clashed, and they began to spar back and forth, going 'round the street several times before Tom dislodged his sword from the fight and caught the other captain off guard with a strike to unprotected side. Tom's sword sliced through the man's shirt and cut into flesh, where blood began to well from the wound. The man stumbled backwards, grunting in pain. He held a hand over his side to quell the blood flow but kept his gaze firmly on Tom.

Tom backed up a few steps, allowing the other captain to regain his footing. He wouldn't kick a man when he was down; it wasn't just, or a true duel. He would win this fight, fair and square.

The captain seemed more determined than before when he came at Tom. His blows came down heavily, carried by the man's massive weight, forcing Tom to rely more on his speed in a dual, rather than his own strength. Each time the man's sword pushed Tom backwards, toward the crowd, Tom found a way to slip out from under the heavy jabs and lead the dual back toward the center of the street. Tom got in two more cuts with his sword, one to the captain's cheek, the other to his shoulder before the man backed off to rest a moment. He held his sword up, warding Tom off as he circled, breathing heavily. Blood ran from each wound, and Tom knew those had to sting like hell if not worse.

Tom heard movement behind him, footsteps running across the front porch of the inn. He tried for a moment to ignore the sound, but was unable to stop himself from turning when he heard Billa's voice.

“Tom?!”

Tom turned sharply to see Billa standing at the top of the stairs, his body draped in a long, black robe. He clutched the front shut at his neck and over his stomach, concealing the fact that he was male from the rest of the onlookers. His eyes were round, his face pale. 

Tom stumbled backward, pain shooting across his back as the other captain took advantage of the distraction to lay a blow across Tom's shoulders. The blade sliced cleanly through Tom's shirt and into flesh, sending pain flaring across his nerve-endings. Tom spun back around, bringing his sword up. Metal rang against metal as Tom threw himself back into the fight, more motivated than before now that Billa was so close to the danger. He drove the man back toward the other side of the street, sending out relentless jabs with his sword, until at last, he managed to cut his sword across the side of the man's neck. The other captain stumbled, pressing his palm over the fresh wound.

Tom spun around to see Billa descending the steps, one hand extended to Tom.

“Tom, oh my God. . .”

“Billa.” Tom shouted, “Get back inside!”

Billa halted, startled by Tom's abrasive tone.

“Get the fuck inside!” Tom screamed, jabbing a finger at the inn.

With wide, blinking eyes, Billa spun and ran back into the inn, leaving the doors to slam shut behind him. Tom turned around just as the other captain was coming up for another strike. He punched the man hard in the face, sending the big captain falling to the ground on his back. Tom planted his foot on the man's stomach and placed the tip of his sword against his heart.

“I remember faces.” He hissed, leaning close, “And I remember names. I remember how they've hurt me or cheated. But I don't know yours, so it is worthless for me to kill you. Come and face me when you have a real conflict to settle.”

He kicked the man's sword across the street and turned sharply back toward the inn. Onlookers gaped as Tom simply walked away from the duel, unharmed, but not truly the winner. He ignored their stares and marched up the steps of the inn, slamming the doors hard behind him. He was breathing hard, sweating, his back stung from the sharp blow, but all he could think about was Billa.

Tom hurried down the halls of the inn, quickly locating his room. He pushed the door out of his way and stepped inside. He came to a sharp halt when he saw Billa curled up in the center of the bed, making quiet sobbing and sniffing sounds.

Tom sighed and threw his sword down on the chair with his sheath and overcoat. He approached the bed quietly and sat down next to Billa's tightly coiled body. Laying a gentle hand on Billa's shoulder he murmured, “I'm sorry you had to see that.”

Billa jerked his hand off and sat up, his wet with tears, face flushed, “You yelled at me.”

Tom drew back, frowning. The reason for Billa's distress was not at all what he had concluded from the incident on the street.

“I was worried you would get hurt.” Tom replied, at last, “I'm sorry.”

“I was worried about  _you._ ” Billa insisted. 

“I can take care of myself.” Tom reached out to touch Billa's cheek.

Billa turned his face away and crawled to the opposite side of the bed.

“Hey,” Tom protested, stretching his arm out as Billa retreated, “Don't be like that. I was just concerned for your safety. You can't fault me if I was on edge. I  _was_ in the middle of a duel.” 

Billa bit his lower lip and regarded Tom with indecisive eyes, “I thought it would matter to you that I cared.”

“It does matter.” Tom insisted, “I just don't want you to get hurt. . .I don't want our baby to get hurt.”

Billa nodded slowly, gazing down at his stomach. He rested a soft hand on the prominent swell, “Okay. . .But promise not to yell at me ever again.”

Tom crawled across the bed and drew Billa into his arms, practically crushing to boy in his embrace, “I promise.”

 

~

 

Tom had nearly had his fill of the Caribbean. Shortly after his aborted dual with the opposing pirate captain, Tom gathered his men back to the ship and they turned the bow towards the ocean. Tom watched with relief as the island, where he had spent so many days agonizing over the loss of Billa, finally faded in the distance.

Tom was drawn from his reverie when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Billa standing at his side. He was wearing a loose, red shirt with a deep V in the front, and a pair of large, black pants to accommodate the growing girth of his stomach. Tom still thought his Billa looked radiant, even in over-sized clothing that swamped his otherwise tiny limbs, and the look of exhaustion that was starting to draw dark circles under his usually big, bright eyes.

“Where will we go?” Billa murmured, resting his head on Tom's shoulder.

Tom pulled Billa into a tight hug and kissed the top of his hand, “I was thinking of making a stop before we leave the Caribbean . . .”

“For what?”

Tom drew in a deep breath, suddenly feeling cautious, nervous even. He had been thinking about the idea for quite some time, even before he had lost Billa in the Deadly Lagoon. After feeling the sting of that loss, and realizing how easily it could happen again, he was even more determined to go through with his plan.

“What?” Billa insisted, at Tom's hesitance.

He lifted his head from Tom's shoulder and turned fully to face him. His large, brown eyes blinked up at Tom, full of questions and expectations. It made Tom's heart swell to know that Billa would follow him anywhere, even to the end's of this earth, the farthest corner of the ocean.

Tom lifted a hand to touch Billa's cheek, “I think you would make a beautiful bride.”

Billa's dark lashes batted rapidly and his lips opened, as if to speak. He took a step back, breathing harder than normal. Tom's soaring heart took a nosedive as he tried to translate Billa's mute reaction; had he said the wrong thing? Had he misinterpreted Billa's fidelity to him?

“But, if you don't. . .” Tom began, pained by each word.

“No.” Billa breathed out, eyes filling with tears, “No, I do. . .I would love to . . .I just can't believe. . .”

“So you will?” Tom asked, his heart picking up it's pace once more, “You want to?”

“Yes!” Billa cried, a smile breaking out across his face, “Yes, Tom! I want to be yours forever and ever.”

Billa threw his arms around Tom's neck and they hugged tightly, their child squeezed safely between them. Tom swallowed hard, feeling the unfamiliar sting of tears in his eyes. Despite the fact that they were joyful tears, he didn't allow a single drop to fall. He was losing even his sanity to this beautiful, wonderful boy.

Tom reached down to cradle Billa's cheek, “Come here.”

Billa lifted his chin and they paused for only a moment, looking adoringly into each other's eyes before they kissed, mouths caressing in a hunger for intimacy.

When the heavy kiss broke, Tom canted his head toward the door of his quarters, “I want to take you to my bed.”

Billa's long, pale throat moved in a hard swallow. His cheeks were already growing brightly flushed. He nodded.

Tom drew Billa back in for another brief, but firm kiss. He dragged his mouth across Billa's cheekbone and breathed hotly on his ear, “You're my bride now.” He murmured, “I want to mark you as mine; make love to you until you remember that you are every time you try to walk.”

Billa shuddered against him, fingers curling tightly around Tom's shirt.

“Yes, Tom . . .” He moaned, eagerly.

Tom pulled back and wrapped his fingers around Billa's hand. He led Billa across the deck and up a flight of stairs to the Captain's quarters. The moment they were inside, Tom pressed Billa up against the wall and delivered hard, passionate kisses that left Billa weak and panting. He moved to Tom's will as Tom stripped the loose clothing from his body. Tom stepped back, letting his gaze wander up and down Billa's gloriously nude body. His gaze lingered on in the full, tight swell of Billa's stomach, thinking that it only made the boy more desirable.

Tom regretted the fact that he had didn't have a real bed on which to make love to Billa, but he made do with several blankets and pillows laid out on the floor. Billa hardly seemed to mind; he writhed and moaned and responded elegantly, lying beneath Tom as if he were lying on a pillow top mattress. He took Tom's cock over and over again, seeming to grow hungrier with each penetration and ensuing climax. Tom thrust into him and reached down to stroke the hard, leaking cock, milking Billa of every last drop until they collapsed against the pillows, to exhausted to proceed.

Tom curled up behind Billa and wrapped his arms tightly around his beautiful debauched bride. They murmured sweet things to each other until they fell asleep, cocooned in one another's embrace.

When Tom startled awake, hardly anytime later, he realized that there were cannons in the distance, and there was movement out on the deck. Tom sat up quickly and went to the door. He pulled back the curtains just enough to see outside.

Far into the distance, he could see the orange flash of fire from cannons, and hear the responding boom of discharge. Another fight on the seas, one he was not quite sure he was prepared for.

But what interested, and perhaps angered him more was the sight of several of his men on deck, circling tightly around a writhing, fighting creature held between two men. Tom quickly noted the silvery-green length of tail and the delicate fins, and realized his pre-marital bliss was not going to last very long.

Tom a growl of rage, Tom thought, _Jorg! This time, I will surely kill you. . ._

 

to be continued. . .

 


End file.
